Never Hesitate
by Voici
Summary: Series. Willow grapples with her own power and guilt through tormenting a master of pain—Spike. Who will break first?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Never Hesitate Author: Voici Email: voici@mail2nemesis.com Rating: PG, will escalate to NC-17. Summary: Series. Willow grapples with her own power and guilt through tormenting a master of pain-Spike. Who will break first? Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, all hail Mutant Enemy. Spoilers: Up through Season 3, but the story line is played with a bit.  
  
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Three vampires levitated in the air.  
  
The night was completely silent, as Willow raised a silver sword and neatly decapitated each vamp. She didn't hesitate. She never hesitated anymore- because of her hesitation Buffy was in the hospital with a broken back.  
  
Her strategy was simple: immobilize and dust. But this was her third night hunting and victims were running low. Willow had to rip the last three right out of their graves.  
  
Running out of vampires meant returning to the hospital. It meant standing over Buffy's broken body and remembering how she had failed her friend.  
  
Buffy was walking her home, and as always, Willow was lulled into a sense of safety by her very presence. So, when a vamp picked a fight, she cowered to the side and waited for Buffy to dust him. But it never happened. Instead, he ended up snapping Buffy's back over a tomb stone. And Willow just watched. She saw her friend lifted up into the air. Saw her being dashed towards the granite. And she had just watched.  
  
Buffy may have already died once, but to Willow she was always invincible. Beautiful, powerful, and in control-things that Willow would never be. It had never occurred to her that she could do anything but get in the way during slayage. Sure she could restore a soul, but she never wanted to admit the violent potential of her own power. She envied Buffy, but in her heart, she knew she needed Buffy the warrior so she could remain Willow the victim. She had always thought that she would be the only one hurt by her choice, but instead it had been Buffy.  
  
Of course, Giles and Xander couldn't understand that. They would tell her that it wasn't her fault. They would go on and on about how she always had to take everyone's guilt onto herself, about her selflessness, about her caring. They didn't blame her, because they never expected anything from her. They never expected her to be anything but the victim. Even Giles didn't understand the applied power in the simplest spells. Her power.  
  
So, when she donned her black silk pants and jacket and went hunting she didn't tell her friends. She didn't tell them how she had summoned the ancient sword of Diana as her weapon. How with a word, she could induce paralysis, and in a single movement she could decapitate.  
  
Oh, there were other spells that would work. She could set them on fire, make them tear out their own jugular, turn their blood to ashes, even a simple pencil levitation through the heart could do the trick. She liked the elegance, the efficiency of her method though. She liked the way her muscles ached at the end of the night, the perfect arch of the sword. No banter, no warning, just silence, stillness, oblivion.  
  
Willow felt the anger and guilt rising in her again as she scanned the graveyard, but the tide was soon stifled by a sharp pain to her head. The darkness engulfed her in something like peace as she lost consciousness and fell into the arms of her assailant. 


	2. A Rude Awakening

Title: A Rude Awakening  
  
Author: Voici  
  
Email: voici@mail2nemesis.com  
  
Rating: R will escalate to NC-17.  
  
Summary: Series. Willow grapples with her own power and guilt through tormenting a master of pain-Spike. Who will break first?  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, all hail Mutant Enemy.  
  
Spoilers: Up through Season 3, but the story line is played with a bit.  
  
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Willow's awoke to a cool metal blade prodding at her cheek. "Wakey, wakey." She knew that accent somewhere.not Giles. "Come on, Red. I can only watch you drool for so long." Spike. Willow groaned and reluctantly opened her eyes. Somehow after almost decimating the town's vamp population, she'd managed to be kidnapped by a wankered Spike and his addled lover.  
  
Spike had her sword. Not only that, but he was prancing around the crypt like a cartoon character, slaying shadow demons and generally amusing himself mightily. May Diana smite him.  
  
Seeing that he finally had her attention, Spike rocked on his knees in front of Willow, grinning like a madman.  
  
"Love the sword, sweet cheeks. A little too dainty, but seems to get the job done." He said after using it to tap the delighted Drusilla on her gauzy backside. Willow's eyes glowed black for an instant, but gagged and bound to her chair, she had no choice but to listen to his inane chatter. A toad. He was definitely going to be turned into a toad.  
  
He leaned forward to whisper confidentially into her ear. "Interesting samurai get up, pet. Has almost as many possibilities as that Halloween costume," With a rakish smile, he used the point of her sword to push her jacket open revealing a crimson satin bra. "Red, you're wearing red. I like it."  
  
"Spikey," Drusilla complained, growing impatient.  
  
"Right, luv. Fear, mayhem, terror. Time to get down to business," he apologized sheepishly to Willow for his cheery mood. Grabbing Drusilla and giving her a smacking kiss, he explained, "Makes me so giddy to have her back, that I almost forget the simpler pleasures of bloodletting."  
  
"Break her, Spikey. So much pain already. sparkling like little bits of glass all broken inside her. So pretty," Drusilla squealed, scratching a blood trail down Willow's cheek.  
  
"Careful, luv. Got to make sure she's still recognizable when we leave her broken body for the Slayer. Gotta think long term. How about right here?" He guided Drusilla's nail across Willow's cleavage leaving a trail of blood. "Or here." He moved Drusilla's hand along the witch's clavicle, his voice getting husky. "Have a taste." He groaned as he watched his dark princess hungrily lick away the blood. He couldn't resist kissing her deeply, lolling his tongue over hers, savoring the witch's bitter flavor. It wasn't at all like he expected, not vanilla and cream. More like smoked fruit, charred-rich and almost sour.  
  
In fact, a lot about the witch surprised. What was she doing in the graveyard alone? With a sword? In black pajama's? Most importantly, why didn't he smell fear? He looked into her eyes and saw only rage, the promise of retribution, then.a smirk?  
  
Not even a toad, she was going to turn him into a wart on a toad. And Drusilla would be the wart on the wart of the toad. She almost smiled.  
  
Spike stood up and looked down at the witch, doing his best to convey just how much trouble she was in. She just kept eye contact and slight upturn at the corner of her lips remained. That was okay, he'd just as soon show her how much trouble she was in.  
  
Willow's chair almost fell over as Spike backhanded her. Her green eyes suddenly seemed iron. Fine. He hit her again from the other direction. Still she wouldn't look down. As he prepared for another blow, he stopped himself. Wouldn't be good to knock her unconscious again.  
  
Instead he leaned over and grabbed her chin in his fist. "I'm not sure you understand the position you're in, pet. I may like to amuse myself, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to decorate the crypt with your innards. In fact, you are here for one reason only-for my amusement. And I will enjoy your pain, your screams, your begging, your blood, and your body until you're nothing but a pile of shattered tissue." He shrugged, "I'm a vampire, luv. And you know what vampires do best.." He punctuated his declaration by brutally twisting a nipple and sinking his teeth deep into her neck. He hardened as her answering moan did much to sooth his demonic ego.  
  
He stood up almost jauntily, hugging Drusilla to his side, and giving her a peck on the cheek, leaving a splash of blood on her pale skin. "See, luv, told you I was still the Big Ba-." Spike's gloating came to an abrupt halt when he noticed the witch was still gazing at him in an act of defiance.  
  
"Seems we have a stubborn little git on our hands. But never let it be said I don't know how to treat a lady." He loosened a hand restraint and used his superior strength to drag her palm to his lips. Licking the surface, he bent her fingers back, delighting in her cries, never letting his eyes leave hers as he waited for the delicious moment of her submission.  
  
"Spikey, I want to hear." Drusilla whined, tugging at his shoulder.  
  
"Good thinking, pet. I'm sure our witch screams beautifully." Spike yanked the gag from Willow's mouth.  
  
With two words, Spike and his lover were pinned to the wall. Willow was standing in front of them, her eyes black. "Big mistake, Spikey. You see, I'm a witch, luv. And you know what witches do best.."  
  
"Bloody hell. " Spike was suddenly feeling very sober. 


End file.
